


Miss Me?

by deltachye



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: + everybody making fun of him, F/M, Short One Shot, adorations. endlessly, cullen is a shy jock, inspired by that one war table banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24512107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [f inquisitor x cullen rutherford]She's been gone 2 weeks but never left his mind.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Kudos: 32





	Miss Me?

“You could stand to not show _all_ your emotions on your face, Commander.”

Cullen stiffened, feeling the eyes turn towards him over the war table. The Inquisitor was off on business in Ferelden and hadn’t been back in a near fortnight, now; how could he _not_ be restless? Cassandra, accompanying her, had never been good at sending word. It was a virtue the Inquisitor herself did not possess. Maker knows she must be busy. He couldn’t blame her. But sitting around on his arse, wondering with fresh dread if the Herald was stewing dead in a ditch somewhere—

“I’m perfectly fine, Leliana.”

“You’ve been staring into space for the last half hour or so,” Josephine commented, dry humour rolling off her accented tongue. “I do wonder where your focus is if not on talks of fighting. It’s unbecoming of you to not be invested in the troops.”

He sighed gruffly. There was no way you could put anything past these women. It spoke of their talents, truly, and better to have competent advisors than not. But still, a bit of privacy might be nice.

“Then I admit defeat.” He palmed the back of his neck awkwardly, too sheepish to look Leliana in the eye. “Have you word of their travels…?”

“Yes, actually,” she chirped. “All you had to do was ask.”

His expression grew cold. “I’m asking.”

“Ooh, scary.” Josephine laughed gleefully, having far too much fun at his expense.

“The Fallow Mire was their last stop. I heard of their intent to return a few days ago. They ought to be back any moment now…”

“Any moment?!” he blurted out, nearly fumbling his sword right out of its scabbard in reflexive anger. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Mm… because you’re fun to play with?”

“I—”

The door suddenly broke open, silencing everybody mid-thought. His heart leapt into his throat, but he was only greeted by the familiar scowl of the Seeker. His eyes darted to her side, wondering if the Inquisitor was merely hiding in a shadow, but Cassandra was alone.

“We are back,” she announced flatly, stating the obvious. Her dark eyes scanned the room. “What did I miss?”

“Not much,” Leliana murmured through a sly smile, shooting him a look he pretended not to notice.

“Cassandra,” he asked before the two could humiliate him any further. “Where is the, ah… Inquisitor?”

“I’m not sure. We only just returned.” She shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring his distress as she walked up to the grand table. Immediately she began shuffling pieces around, always straight to work. “You can mark off these areas. We managed to resolve them peacefully. We also discovered possible Venatori activity… here. In the East.”

“I see. I’ll send word that—”

“Excuse me,” Cullen interrupted, already shuffling towards the doors. “I’ve. Urgent business.”

“With the Inquisitor?” Josephine jabbed, barely able to conceal her grin. “Can’t it wait until she attends War Council herself?”

“Unfortunately, it cannot,” he replied stiffly, and took off before he could hear the women’s laughter behind him. The heavy door swung shut behind him and he was finally alone in the vestibule. With a heavy sigh, he wondered where she might be. It wasn’t like her to be late to a summoning.

Varric, working nearby, was no help. He was worse than the advisors had been, going so far as to form a crude hole with his finger, prodding it with—well, Cullen left before seeing the rest of the analogy. Dorian was the same, useless, delighting in his desperation: _oh, how I wish I had you chasing ME down, Commander; though I must admit I’m curious as to see what you look like beneath me instead…_ Blackwall, at least, was a good enough man to admit he hadn’t seen the Inquisitor without innuendo. Though the brusque silence was refreshing, he got no answers out of it. Iron Bull was the opposite of that… enough said. He left the tavern in a hurry with a sorry red face. Solas offered nothing but awkward apology, and he wasn’t even able to track Cole down. Sera? Laughed in his face. Vivienne? Did the same, though more politely, and it stung all the same. He felt like he’d marched each hall of Skyhold twice over and shaken down every soul he ran into, and somehow, nobody had seen Andraste’s blessed one. It was almost like she was deliberately avoiding him.

Finally, he decided he’d check her quarters for the last time before calling quits. It had obviously been the first place he looked, but the grand room had been empty each time. He trudged up the stairs, unable to contain a weary sigh. Two weeks without seeing or hearing of his love had taken a far greater toll on him than he’d like to admit. He’d never felt this way about anybody before. It was almost as painful as the lyrium withdrawal, but somehow worse. He could scarcely keep his mind off of her, and yet, his focus and drive had never been clearer. It’d always been a thing for him—something noble or just to chase down, keep him going. She was a warm body, soft beneath him.

She was… naked, before him.

“Oh,” she said, looking only mildly surprised. “I didn’t hear you knock.”

He hadn’t. He didn’t think she’d actually be here.

“I—er—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…!” Look away. He should look away. He looked away, staring at the ceiling.

“The Mire is one disgusting place,” she drawled casually, and he wondered if she was still… she’d been holding fabric in her hands, so she’d clearly meant to get dressed before he’d stormed in like a brute. He’d interrupted her; of course, that was that. (There was no way she had planned it. Right?) “I had to take a bath. I’d go insane without. You know what it’s like down South, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course.” He struck down despicable thoughts of what other Southern plains he’d like to explore. “Then, I’ll wait for you out—” He was already making moves to backtrack before she made a soft noise, a purr that curled at the back of her throat. It seized him by his own.

“You can stay. It’s been nearly two weeks, Cullen. Didn’t you miss me?”

“I—yes, of course I did!” He made the mistake of looking at her again, so thankful to be speaking with her that when his eyes landed on her body again he had to physically spin around to conceal his shame. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her like this before, but torchlight doesn’t exactly compare to sunlight. He barely heard her footsteps against the stone tile, shuddering when he felt her small hands rest upon his waist. Even through his armour, he felt her press against his back. The heat seared through him.

“Then you ought to show me just how much you missed me,” she whispered sultrily in his ear. By Maker’s will, he was finally all too happy to indulge in somebody’s playful words.

**Author's Note:**

> deltachye.tumblr.com


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